


A Particular Shade of Red

by Alithea



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 07:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20021686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alithea/pseuds/Alithea
Summary: Batgirl makes a mistake and causes some secrets to come to light. f/f Batgirl/Poison Ivy.





	A Particular Shade of Red

**Author's Note:**

> Poetry is mine.

It was a stupid mistake to make, but Batgirl had miscalculated the moment she had decided to chase the man. The thug was a low level nobody that she had wanted to question in regards to stolen evidence from several Gotham P.D. locations, but he had turned her around somewhere near 14th Street. It was a rookie mistake and she was caught in a corner. He tossed out an old canister of Joker-Gas that she managed to kick back at him just in time for it to mostly explode in his face. Unfortunately, she had caught some of the blast and couldn't reach her gasmask in time. The world around her grew hazy, and she fell to her knees. 

Through the haze of the mind altering gas she could see someone approach. She tried to catch herself, but hit the concrete. With her eyes half closed she heard a sigh and then felt herself being carried. There was a sound in her throat that wanted to be a protest or a command, but it came out as a soft gurgle.

"You're a lot more trouble than you're worth, little bat," she heard someone (a woman?) say. "But you're in less danger than you think you are."

_Just a little difference in physiology_  
_Just a little sway in the way of your biology_  
_Just a little jump in your reactions, baby_  
_But it's still just poison all the same_  
_It's still just poison all the same_

Barbara Gordon woke in the hospital with her father sitting in a chair nearby. He looked terrible, and she ticked the little mental box that put them almost even for sitting by each others' sides in a hospital because of any number of calamities that had occurred in Gotham. He stirred and they went through the tearful ritual of being thankful to come out of another scrape okay. The doctors said she was just shy of lethal range of the exploding canister, and it was an older formula of Joker-Gas that they had a working treatment for. They did not know who had brought her to the ER, but it was good that someone had. 

She supposed she was lucky, but she had not been dressed as Barbara Gordon when the accident had occurred, so there were a lot of questions she had no answers to that she could not ask of her immediate company. 

Then Bruce stopped by and, after she ushered her father out of the room for a little private conversation Barbara told him what she could remember from that night. He looked grave and intent as he listened, but all he said was, "Did you know that you are mostly immune to a battery of known poisons and toxins?"

Barbara tried to get her bearings. He looked at her chart? Of course he had looked at her chart.

She shook her head, "I did not know that." 

Bruce nodded. "That's a nice bouquet of roses."

She looked over in the corner of the room where her father had gathered most of the "Get Well" gifts and flowers that had come in, mostly from Gotham P.D. and city politicians trying to get in Commissioner Gordon's good graces. She fixed on the roses, a very peculiar shade of deep red, and nodded. 

"There probably isn't a card," she stated. 

"No," Bruce replied, "There probably isn't."

She looked at him and could feel the wheels in his head turning. It was annoying, but she let it go because there were always going to be times when he was going to over analyze every little thing. Except that this wasn't exactly a little thing. This was something she was going to have to give him answers for. Answers she wasn't quite sure she knew how to explain to him.

Bruce left when her father returned, and then Barbara did her best pleading for her father to go home and get some rest in his own bed. She was fine. She was on the mend. He eventually obeyed and she was left to ponder what she could remember. 

She had kicked back the canister. She couldn't reach her gasmask. She fell to the ground and then there was that voice-

"Ms. Gordon?"

She looked up and a nurse was standing in the doorway. She had dark hair, the palest skin, and a very particular shade of green eyes. Barbara sat back in her bed and shut her eyes briefly before reopening them when the nurse spoke.

"This package arrived for you."

Barabara took it and opened it just enough to see her cowl poking through. She quickly covered it up.

The nurse smiled. 

"Did you happen to see who delivered this?"

"No, but it seemed like something you'd want right away." The nurse turned to leave.

"Why am I alive," Barbara asked. "Why am I immune to certain poisons and toxins, Ivy?"

The nurse turned back around and approached the bed. She sighed. "This is why I never disguise myself. You lot always seem to know it's me."

"Color contact lenses might help."

Poison Ivy took a seat next to the hospital bed and removed the black wig. Her red hair tumbled around her shoulders and she shrugged. "I have considered that with my current power set I could attempt trying it on a physical level, but I do like how I look, and, well...vanity." She leaned in and looked Barbara in the eyes. "Baby, I'm poison. Do you think you'd have survived any of our little assignations if I hadn't given you a little booster shot to keep you from keeling over?"

"But not full immunity?"

"I could only find the heart to give that to one person I'm afraid, and she doesn't chase me over rooftops trying to put me in jail."

Barbara nodded, and sighed, "I suppose she also might be in more danger than I am at any given moment."

Poison Ivy sat silently. "I don't want to linger. I'd hate for your boss to make an appearance. Besides, I've done my good deed for the year." She stood up, but felt the younger woman reaching for her, and allowed herself to be caught for a moment.

"Don't I owe you one, Ivy?"

Ivy grimaced. She shook her head. "I'm rather tired of exchanging favors. Try and stay alive, little bat." She broke from the young woman's grasp put the wig back on. 

_Isn't it obvious?_  
_Isn't it clear?_  
_It isn't safe to keep me near_  
_Don't you know honey?_  
_Can't you see?_  
_All this love and affection_  
_It's poisoning me_

Batman stared at the computer monitor and at the blood sample he was studying. He glanced up when he heard a familiar footfall, and put his research up on the larger monitor. The young woman who had entered barely even glanced at it.

"What's the prognosis," Batgirl asked.

"You're fine," he replied. "This immunity can't be replicated either. It's very... clever." 

She nodded. "Right."

"And, it's very stable, so there's no chance that it will ever degrade or lessen." The statement was an accusation. 

Batgirl nodded again. "I can take Tim out, if-"

"Barbara?"

"Ivy's just a bit of a...Frenemy?"

Batman's expression did not change. She hoped he was at least arching an eyebrow under the cowl. 

"I don't know what you want me to tell you," she said. 

"I don't trust Poison Ivy, Batgirl."

"You don't really trust anyone." She grimaced and then added, "I don't trust her either. Sometimes it isn't about trust."

"Then what is it?"

"Respect?" She shook her head. "I don't know if I can explain it better. Honestly, though, what's the prognosis?"

Batman enlarged the blood sample. "Immunity to a wide battery of poisons and toxins, with no mind or hormonal control apparent."

"And it can't be taken away?"

"Not by any means I can see." 

He watched her closely as she turned to leave. She got to the stairs when he said, almost too quietly to hear, "Be careful, Barbara."

_If i slip into something a little more daring_  
_If I fall from a greater height than I meant_  
_If I couldn't quite see where this was going_  
_If it just doesn't make any sense_  
_You flash all your warning colors_  
_You give all the visual cues_  
_You tell me over and over you're poison_  
_But I've taken so much of you into me, baby_  
_I might be immune_

There were two bouquets of roses waiting for her in her apartment. One was from Dick hoping she was feeling better. The other had no card but the blossoms were unusual enough that she that she knew who they were from. They had an unusual scent, but there was nothing about them that made her feel dizzy or spellbound. She hoped that Batman understood that she meant it when she said she couldn't explain things. 

There was a knock at the door and Pamela Isley stood on the other side of it. Barbara let her in and smiled when the older woman moved towards the roses that Dick had sent. The woman pulled out a small packet and dumped it into the vase. She gave the vase a slight swirl. 

"That will help them last longer." She turned and saw Barbara watching her curiously. "One thing no one understands is that in order for roses to bloom full and lush every year they have to be pruned. I don't take the thorns off the roses I cut though."

"No, you don't." Barbara closed the distance between them. "Is it a warning?"

"A reminder," Pamela replied. "Pretty things are more dangerous than they look." 

"I'll keep that in mind."

"The reminder isn't for you, Barbara."

_I take you in_  
_Breathe you out_  
_My mind is hazy_  
_My heart is racing_  
_Each kiss is an invitation to pain_  
_Your touches bruise my very skin_  
_You drag your teeth across my throat_  
_Slide your fingers within_  
_Plucked from the safety of the vines_  
_Oh, you take the honey with my cries_  
_Leave me barren in the morning_  
_Leave me without a flower to be seen_  
_You strip me back to nothing, baby_  
_And remind me that I'm the poison that you need_

End


End file.
